A Shotgun Wedding. by John Doyle

Heads swing behind; the accelerated silence chills each chest;
baby-blue wooden church
resembling Minnesota - 1930s;
congregation’s packed so tight breathing becomes like stone -            
laboured, fast - and holy water is therefore merely symbolic.
The slap of sudden shoe turns a head or two
as if unrehearsed,
the span from shoulders
stiff
like ox-bones
outplaced on the meat of modern maps.
Bullish bent-nosed males cough right into their late 60s, corpse-brown knuckles, rolled cigarettes;
a hill's vantage placeless
on withered land,
where the telescopes prod more than they can see; mouth and eyes and all men equal

John Doyle became a Mod again in the summer of 2017 to fight off his impending mid-life crisis; whether this has been a success remains to be seen. He has has two collections published to date, A Stirring at Dusk in 2017, and Songs for Boys Called Wendell Gomez in 2018, both on PSKI's Porch.

He is based in Maynooth, County Kildare, Ireland. All he asks is that you leave your guns at the door and tie up your horses before your enter.